


American Boy

by Timewatcher9000



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, American Accent, Awkward Crush, Bisexual Harry Potter, Boston Accent, Bostonian Reader, Crush at First Sight, Crushes, Fifth Year Reader, Fluff, Foreign Exchange Student, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ilvermorny, Ilvermorny House - Horned Serpent, Implied Hufflepuff Reader, Implied Ravenclaw Reader, Love at First Sight, M/M, Mentor Remus Lupin, POC Harry Potter, Ravenclaw, Schoolboys, Slytherin, Student Transfer, Third Year Harry, Transgender
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-12 01:08:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15984350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Timewatcher9000/pseuds/Timewatcher9000
Summary: You are a transfer student at Hogwarts, from the looks of it, one of the very few. Your first train ride was a bit of an awkward one and if you were being one hundred percent honest: you didn’t want to be there.





	American Boy

**Author's Note:**

> I did not have a beta reader for this fic, so I will fix mistakes as I find them. Also, a Boston accent was very difficult to write without it coming off as annoying seeing as written dialect is harder to understand than when it’s spoken. So I kept it to a minimum, but just as a heads up that there will be semi-poorly written accents in this fic.

There are some things in this world that are unavoidable. Such as the impending doom of a wizarding war. Which was, understandably, alarming to you for a number of reasons. First and foremost: your father was a no-maj and if anything were to happen to him you don’t think you’d be able to live anymore. 

 

The second reason being is that you’re mother was called to England to represent the US in an international conference. However, seeing as the rumored wizarding war was running amuck your mother would need to stay a lot longer than anticipated. Something about observing the chances of threats. You never really bothered to understand the politics behind your mother’s job. All you knew was that your mom needed to stay in England for roughly two years and you were offered the chance to go with her.

 

At first you really couldn’t be bothered. Ilvermorny was one of the leading wizarding schools on the globe, wasn’t that good enough? Maybe it was that exact attitude that prompted your father to encourage you to go. He mentioned something about experiencing new cultures and spending time in a more “magic-centric” part of the world. Which did sound fun, but the thought of leaving home to stay with complete strangers for two years wasn’t very appealing. Until your father made the ever so compelling argument that by two years they technically can’t be strangers anymore.

 

So there you were, sitting on the Hogwarts Express playing your favorite game.  _ Say What You See.  _ You were alone in the compartment, so you weren’t afraid to play the not-so-real game out loud. Until an older, graying man walked in. You jumped at the sound of the door sliding open and gave a sheepish smile, vaguely wondering why an adult was riding the train to Hogwarts.

 

“I’m very sorry, but it seems that all the compartments are full and…”

 

The man trailed off his sentence, clearly not trying to offend but implying that your compartment was the perfect contednor since you were alone. Which wasn’t wrong, but didn’t make you any less wary. 

 

“I’m the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher,” the man said, as if he was attempting to explain himself.

 

Defense Against the Dark Arts, he said? Maybe it was your American bias, but you couldn’t help but furrow a brow at the course name. At Ilvermorny the closest thing to that is DAMA, Defenses Against the Magical Arts, and DAPC, Defense Against Physical Combat. Though to be fair, it was changed from DADA only recently. But it still made sense, all forms of dueling are inherently dangerous, that includes no-maj methods of dueling-- er, combat. 

 

Realizing that you weren’t answering quick enough you nervously laughed. You held your hand out to the man, your eyes not leaving the soft blue ones that were seemingly looking into your soul.

 

“Oh, sorry, I was distracted there for ah bit. Buh, I can leave if you’d like,” you offered to him, not missing the way his interest clearly piqued at your accent.

 

“No it’s quite alright, I was just going to be resting for a bit. I’m Professor Lupin by the way. I expect to see you in class Ms…?”

 

Professor Lupin’s gathered in pitch, making his statement sound like a question and it took all you had not to grimace.

 

“(l/n), buh, it’s not Ms. Can you maybe use mistah. when referring to me...please?”

 

Unlike previously, you truly couldn’t hide the flinch at his blank stare. Was he confused? Or maybe he was amused. Perhaps you should’ve just let it slide, it’s not like he’s your friend.

 

All doubts you had vanished when a soft smile melted onto his face. He didn’t push the subject any further and corrected himself by placing a hand on his heart.

 

“Of course, my apologies Mr. (l/n). You’re American, correct?”

 

“Y-yeh, I’m from Boston,” you really weren’t but there was no way in hell he knew about Newton, which was only like half an hour out from Boston.

 

“Boston,” he repeated, almost as if the name tasted funny.

 

“Yep, conveniently where Ilvermorny is,” also not true, but really what was three hours compared to being across the Atlantic?

 

Professor Lupin made a low humming noise deep from his throat, and you glanced at him in slight curiosity. He was staring at you with mild interest as he took a seat on the other side of the compartment. You felt yourself relax, unaware that you were so tense when talking to the man. You stared out the window again as the conversation fell, mumbling what you saw to yourself. Hearing shuffling, you glanced slightly at Professor Lupin too see him take a chocolate bar from his pocket. He held his hand out to you, reaching over, to which you responded to by reaching closer to grab the chocolate. Only a few moments passed until Professor Lupin spoke again.

 

“How is England treating you so far?”

 

You stared at Professor Lupin, staring at him for what felt like a few minutes but was probably half a second. You wanted to tell him the truth, that you were missing the loud bustling city and the smell of gas. Say What You See was much more entertaining when you could actually see things besides grass and farms. You weren’t sure when the shift in attitude was, maybe it was the chocolate or the warmth in his smile. But you wanted to trust him, and tell him that you missed your father. Tell him that you had so many questions but not enough time.

 

Maybe he sensed this, maybe he was getting bored of waiting for you to answer. But he moved on with a more specific question, “What Ilvermorny house were you in?”

 

“Horned Serpen, the mind of Ilvermorny,” you said trying not to slur your words as you were used to doing. It must’ve sounded as weird as it felt because Professor Lupin quirked a brow.

 

“Ah, are the houses based on anatomy? I’ve heard about the soul, heart, mind, and the body of Ilvermorny.”

 

“Well, it’s mostly used as a metaphor to show that we’re all human; it’s about school unity or something like dat. Buh, people always say that Horned Serpen favored scholahs.”

 

“I’m sure you’ll make a fine Ravenclaw then.”

 

Lupin’s words confused you. What was a Ravenclaw? You didn’t bother to hide your confusion and he quickly picked up on it.

 

“I suppose there was really no need for you to learn of Hogwarts like many of the other students here. Ravenclaw is one of the four Hogwarts Houses, usually characterized as being wise and creative.”

 

“Oh, maybe I am a,” you paused your sentence for a millisecond, not quite knowing how to go about pronouncing the Hogwarts House, “Rahvenclaw then.”

 

      The second you said the first syllable you knew you missed the mark and it wasn’t that you couldn’t pronounce Raven, you weren’t an idiot; you just had troubles stopping the extra emphasis on the “a.” Professor Lupin didn’t seem to mind though, in fact he found it quite amusing. He bit his lip, but you could still see the corners of his mouth pulling up and you couldn’t help but cheese right back at him.

 

It wasn’t long until everything fell silent again, but this time around much less unnerving. You went back to your game, conscious of the volume of your voice as you heard faint snores coming from Lupin’s direction. The man seemed to have fallen asleep.

 

       Lupin’s snores were beginning to become mildly annoying and you quickly decided to leave before you felt like pulling your hair out. As you made your way out you bumped into a trio of much younger students. 

 

“I haven’t seen you around, are you new?” the girl asked, holding out a hand to pull you up, which you gladly accepted, conscious about not knocking her over.

 

“He doesn’t look like a first year ‘Mione. He’s probably just in a different house.” the freckled boy said, clearly confused as to who you are.

 

“Well then explain why he’s wearing the un-sorted robes Ronald? Ugh, never mind,” she said turning back to you, “Ignore him. I’m sorry for running into you.”

 

“Uh, it’s no problem. I’m a transfah student, so I guess that I’ll be sorted when we arrive at Hogwarts?”

 

        ‘Mione nodded at your words, and opened her mouth as if she wanted to ask a question but ultimately decided against it.

 

“I’m (y/n), (y/n) (l/n),” you told the group, assuming that she was gonna ask for your name. 

 

“Hermione Granger.”

 

“I’m Ron Weasley.”

 

“Harry Potter,” the other boy said, finally making himself recognized. 

 

        You tried not to make your staring obvious, but you couldn’t help but let your gaze linger on his green eyes and the way it clashed against his dark skin. You can see the hints of freckles on his face you felt like you could stare at him forever. However, that was probably not the best idea so you forced yourself to turn your head, trying to ignore the rising heat to your skin.

 

You quickly decided to change the conversation and play on the the confused foreigner trope, “Wah-ah the othah houses? I’ve only heard of Rahvenclaw.”

 

        It would be a lie if you said you didn’t obnoxiously put emphasis on your accent to invoke a reaction. You knew how to say: What are the other houses? But it’s been too long since you’ve been able to stop thinking about your dialect during conversation. Besides it was fun to confuse people.

 

        Hermione caught on quickly though and rolled her eyes, despite it commonly being seen as a rude action, you knew she meant it in an endearing way. Ron stared at you like you just grew a second head. His mouth was slightly parted and you could see the gears turning in his head to try and figure what you said. Harry, unlike Ron, didn’t make his confusion apparent. Instead he smiled at you, as if he was mildly entertained; however, you could tell by the way he leaned forward slightly to hear you that he was having a hard time understanding you.

 

“There are four houses at Hogwarts and each year the first years, or transfer students in your case, get sorted into your house by the Sorting Hat. There are Gryffindor wh-“

 

“That’s our house! We’re the good guys,” Ron said loudly cutting off Hermione, who did not look happy.

 

“Anyways, there's Gryffindor who are usually those who value bravery, chivalry, and courage. Ravenclaw who are intelligent, unique, creative, and wise. Hufflepuffs are hardworking, loyal, diligent, fair, and I’ve heard they’re very good finders. Sly-“

 

“Slytherin are the death eaters,” Ron interrupted again, his face distorting into disgust.

 

Hermione rolled her eyes but made no efforts to correct him, simply adding on, “Slytherin does have a large population of death eaters but are known for ambition, resourcefulness, and wit.”

 

“I’m guessing that we’re sorted by our personalities,” you asked Hermione, noticing the way Harry kept quiet throughout the whole conversation, casting you almost shy glances. 

 

“Nobody is sure on how the sorting hat works, it might be a multitude of things.”

 

“Oh well, uh thanks for ya help. Maybe I’ll see you guys around?”

 

     The three gave their goodbyes, and headed into the compartment that you just left from. You stared after them, your eyebrows raising as Harry gave you one more glance. He quickly whipped his head around once he met your eyes, but you could’ve sworn that you seen a large smile reach his lips that wasn’t there before.

 

Maybe England wasn’t so bad after all.


End file.
